


It's a little bit funny...

by Hessy



Series: The Ranger Mishaps [7]
Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: Fluff, Gen, also crowley totally babysits Cassandra, baking some yummy yummy cakes, cassandra is a little menace, he's her second dad u can't change my mind, lol some historical inaccuracies aka what do you mean they didn't have whole cakes, yeehaw some father & daughter time!, yes i am hungry thank you very much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:22:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24823036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hessy/pseuds/Hessy
Summary: Cassandra gets grounded after an accident in the kitchens. However, she has the perfect people to "bake" an apology with
Relationships: Crowley Meratyn & Cassandra, Duncan & Cassandra
Series: The Ranger Mishaps [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696990
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8
Collections: Ranger's Apprentice Summer Fluff 5K





	It's a little bit funny...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LifeOfRoos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LifeOfRoos/gifts).



> hello everyone, I am normally physically incapable of fluff but I tried my best ^^  
> LifeOfRoos, I don't know you at all but I hope you'll enjoy this little fic!

Cassandra hitched up the skirt of her red dress. She was on a mission. The eight-year-old had just snuck out of her chambers, her honey blonde hair tied up in a high ponytail, the fabric of her dress in her hands. 

Despite having lunch not nearly half an hour ago, she was hungry. They had lamb meat for meal and she wasn’t a fan of its taste. Acting a bit spoiled, the Princess refused to eat the food and now, half an hour later, her stomach grumbled in hunger. Not wanting to be lectured about how she should eat properly, she left her room quietly, wandering around the castle.

It wasn't unusual for the Princess to wander around the castle, so every servant she met greeted her politely with "Your Highness" or "Princess" and went on their way. 

Cassandra happily skipped to the kitchens. She wanted to grab something small to eat, or even fix herself a little snack (her grandmother Deborah had made sure the girl knew how to make a simple meal, however, having all her meals prepared by the cooks, Cassandra never had any need to use the skills and had forgotten quite a few). 

She passed the staircase to the dungeons and went further down the corridor. There it was! The door leading to the kitchens! The eight-year-old Princess grasped the handle and opened the door. Right now, the kitchen was almost empty. 

All the cooks were taking a well-deserved break after the lunch rush, and after having washed the dishes, they all went to take a small nap before they had to start preparing dinner for the whole court again. 

Cassandra stopped in the doorway, letting go of her dress and looking around curiously. She had been in the kitchens many times before and it always surprised her how different it looked every time she visited. Sometimes, there were roasted pigs, different kinds of vegetables, jugs of milk, honey jars, freshly baked bread, or a pie. 

Cassandra's eyes lit up with excitement when she saw that there was a whole cake resting on the wooden table. 

Had the Princess paid more attention to her Father's speech during lunch, she would've known that the cake was for Lady Kyla's upcoming wedding. 

The Princess tilted her head. The cake looked much fancier than anything they usually had. It had four layers, flower decorations all around its base, with soft icing on the top, decorated more with small bows. 

Cassandra didn’t connect the dots in her head. She was hungry and this cake was just sitting there, waiting for someone to just take a bit out of it… 

She reached for it with her tiny hands, grabbed the tray, and moved the cake towards herself. Smiling, she let go of the tray and ran off to find a stool that she could use to get to it, and, of course, some cutlery. 

The Princess sat on the stool, licking her lips. Just one bite out of the cake… 

She sunk the knife into the base layer, getting a nice big piece out of the delicacy. The sweet taste on her tongue was magnificent and she couldn’t resist taking another piece of the cake. Somewhere in her mind, she knew she shouldn’t take another piece, but she couldn’t very well limit herself. 

However, she didn’t have a chance to take another bite. The cake had four layers and the girl had been eating the base layer. As a result, the cake overbalanced and fell! Cassandra didn’t see it coming - she was too busy eating, but the force of the falling cake knocked her out of the stool and onto the floor, covered in icing, decorations, and sweet filling. 

For a moment, the girl didn’t understand what happened. In the next, she started crying. When she fell from the stool, she hit her pelvic bone and it hurt. 

“Ooww,” she hissed, clutching her side, barely biting back tears. She heard footsteps; the rattling of the tray and the sound of the cake being splattered on the floor and the girl must’ve caught the cooks’ attention. 

The chef was the first to come into the room. At first, he didn’t see the Princess laying on the floor, covered with the cake’s remnants. He just saw the empty table, until another cook came in through the other entrance. 

“Your Highness!” she cried, running to the girl, being careful not to slip on the floor. “What happened?” 

Cassandra felt blood rush into her cheeks. Embarrassed, she explained that she only wanted something to eat when the cake fell on her. The chef clasped his hands together. 

“The wedding cake! Our masterpiece is wasted!” he cried in desperation. 

“What will we do now?” asked one of the cooks. Cassandra looked from one to another with teary eyes. She knew she had done something she shouldn’t have, her Father would hear about this. She was in so much trouble. 

Even worse, the cries of the cooks attracted the guards. They looked just as confused as the cooks were at first, before taking note of the small figure laying on the floor, covered in cake. 

“Your Highness!” cried the Chief, reaching his hand out to help her stand up. By doing so, a new flood of cake fell from Cassandra’s body on the floor. Her dress was ruined; her hair was sticky just like everything else. 

The Princess let herself be taken into her Chambers where maids took care of her, filling up a bathtub with warm water and letting the girl wash herself in peace, leaving her alone. 

Needless to say, Cassandra didn’t particularly want to get out of the tub. By now, the word must’ve got to her Father and she was sure there was an unpleasant lecture waiting for her once she got dried up and dressed. 

When the girl finally got to her chambers, sure enough, King Duncan was waiting for her, sitting on her bed. Seeing her come in, he took a deep breath. 

"Cassandra…" he started and the Princess paled. She knew very well that whenever he addressed her with her full name instead of Cass or Cassie, she was in trouble. 

"Yes, Father?" she replied, sitting down in the chair opposite the bed. She held her head proud, looking into her Father's eyes. 

Duncan ran his hand through his hair. 

"I want to talk about what happened today." He looked at her, but the Princess remained silent, waiting for him to continue. "What you did was irresponsible and dangerous. If you were hungry, you should've eaten your lunch or asked for something. Instead, lady Kyla's wedding is tomorrow and the cooks will have to stay up to bake a new cake."

Cassandra looked at the hands resting in her lap. Yes, she knew that what she'd done was wrong. 

"I'm sorry Daddy," she said, shifting her gaze to look at the King. Duncan shook his head.

"It's not me who you should apologize to. You will apologize to the cooks tomorrow. You are grounded for the next week. Crowley will keep an eye on you," he said and stood up. He waited for any kind of protest from the child, but Cassandra knew she deserved a punishment. 

She obediently sat in the room with her Father while they both waited for the Ranger Commandant. It was an awkward silence, neither one of them wanted to look at the other or say something. Duncan had worn of his own that needed to be completed by the next morning, so Crowley was the only logical choice. Cassandra's friend Evanlyn had a day off and was spending it with her friends down in the village. The Princess always evaded her nannies and could easily do so again if left alone with them. Pulling the Ranger Commandant from work was no easy feat, but Crowley had to obey the King's orders, and so there was a silent knock on the door five minutes of uncomfortable silence later. 

"You requested my presence, Your Majesty?" he asked, bowing slightly. King Duncan acknowledged his statement by a nod of his head. 

"Yes, Crowley, I did. I want you to watch Cassandra. She is not to leave her rooms unless under supervision," he ordered, and Crowley bit the soft insides of his mouth. What about that mountain of paperwork that was waiting in his office? But, he had sworn loyalty to the crown, and so he bowed. 

"Understood, Your Majesty," he said in a neutral tone, watching the Princess from the corner of his eye. The girl sat there with her head hung low, looking at her lap. 

King Duncan stood up and promptly left the Ranger Commandant alone with his daughter, possibly to go take care of all the mess she had caused. 

Cassandra grunted and grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill. She was determined to write (or rather, draw) an apology to Lady Kyla. She liked the woman, she always got her birthday presents, and she wanted to apologise for all the trouble. 

Crowley sat opposite of her, watching as she grabbed a can of ink. 

"So," he started. "Want to tell me what is this about?" He had been informed, of course. There was nothing going on in the Castle without him knowing about it. Cassandra scowled as the first letter she tried to write resulted in a black blotch. 

"You already know," she said, annoyed. The Ranger Commandant always knew, so why bother telling him again? He surely didn't need to be burdened by such information twice. 

Crowley tapped his chin. "I did hear some rumours, yes. But wouldn't you rather I hear it from you?" 

The Princess stopped writing. She understood that Crowley was giving her a chance to explain herself rather than write her off as a spoiled brat. He wanted to hear her side of the story too. 

She shrugged. "I was hungry, so I went to the kitchen to get something to eat." She watched as Crowley nodded in understanding. There was nothing wrong with feeling hungry. It was human. He waited for her to continue. 

"But there was this cake in the kitchens." Tears welled up in her eyes. "I didn't know it was lady Kyla's wedding cake!" 

Crowley raised his eyebrow. Of course, a child would go for the sweet thing rather than anything else. But he thought that she had known about the wedding. 

"And the cake fell on me," Cassandra sniffed and was glad when Crowley offered her a tissue. The Ranger once sometimes babysat her but as she grew up and became more and more independent, he wasn't asked to do that as often as he had been in the past. Now, she felt like a small child in need of comfort. 

"You know," Crowley stated in a light tone. "When your Mother and Father had their wedding, I was in charge of the security and was helped by Halt, my friend, and Farrel. His leg was broken at that time, so he couldn't help us a lot, though." 

That caught Cassandra's attention. She knew Halt, he visited once in a while, but she didn't remember Farrel. He got his own fief after the war and didn't report to Castle Araluen quite as much as Halt did. 

"Is that the guy with the wooden leg?" she asked innocently, tilting her head in confusion. Crowley laughed. 

"No, that's Berrigan." He watched as realization dawned on the child's face. 

"Anyway, since there was no danger, we had fun as well… until we were asked to make a show out of our archery skills. Farrel agreed to let us shoot an apple on his head.” Cassandra clasped her hands together, a horrified expression on her face. 

“Did you hurt him?” she asked, tilting her head. Crowley laughed. 

“Gods, no! But the apple we shot ended up in one of the cakes! The visitors had a blast,” he explained, laughing. Cassandra narrowed her eyes. She couldn’t believe…

“And Father wasn’t angry with you?” she asked, confused. How come Crowley and the Rangers could get away with knocking a cake over and she couldn’t? 

Crowley smiled. “He wasn’t. He was too busy wiping the icing off his face!” Then, he erupted in a fit of laughter and Cassandra couldn’t help but grin. She had never heard this story before! 

Crowley wiped a tear off his face. “And that’s not all. When it was Halt’s turn, his arrow sliced the apple in half and sunk into lady Pauline’s piece of roasted pig.” 

A new fit of laughter resonated in the room as both the Princess and the Ranger Commandant acted like small children. Cassandra couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Whenever Halt or lady Pauline visited Castle Araluen, new rumours about them being in love appeared. She had never believed them, but as she grew older, she had noticed subtle glances at each other whenever they were together or how Halt tended to look away when the diplomat’s name was mentioned during dinners. Crowley always made it a point to bring her up. And Halt almost shot away her meat? 

“And…” she curled up, her chest aching from all the laughing. “How did she react?” 

Crowley banged his fist on the table. “She just politely smiled and returned Halt’s arrow. And then the King declared the fun over.” 

When the two of them finally calmed down enough to replenish their oxygen supplies from all the laughing, Cassandra looked up at the Ranger with puppy eyes.

“Crowley? Will you help me write this apology to lady Kyla, please?” she asked, holding her quill and dipping it in ink. The red-haired Ranger shifted his chair closer. 

“So what do you want to write?” he asked, giving her time to think of an answer. Cassandra tapped her chin with the feathers of her quill. 

“That I’m sorry,” she said finally, not deciding on a definite wording. Suddenly, Crowley stood up, leaving the girl to look up at him, absolutely dumbfounded. 

“I have a suggestion!” he said, his eyes shining like a small child that had just opened their Christmas presents. “Why don’t you try to bake her another cake?” 

The Princess stopped tapping her chin. “Bake… another cake?” she asked. “But Crowley, I can’t bake! And I’m not allowed to leave my room!”

She could’ve sworn the Ranger winked at her. 

“You’re not allowed to leave your rooms unless under supervision,” he said with an emphasis on the last few words. “And I can help you bake the cake. It doesn’t have to be a fancy one, just a nice little cake that you can give her.” 

Cassandra hopped down from her chair and hurried to get to Crowley’s side. Baking a cake for lady Kyla was a nice idea and she trusted that Crowley knew how to do such a thing. 

The two of them made their way down to the kitchens. However, nearing the entrance, Cassandra stopped, taking a small step back. The Ranger Commandant halted as well, looking at the girl, waiting for her to explain why she had stopped. 

“Crowley, what if the cooks don’t want me in there?” she asked, looking slightly scared. Her fear was understandable; she had ruined all their hard work and she wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t want the Princess getting under their feet while they baking a new cake. 

Crowley winked at her. “They won’t even notice you. We will get a desk of our own,” he said. Cassandra’s eyes lit up in joy. 

“Okay!” she cried happily, following the Ranger into the kitchens, keeping her mouth shut. She waited impatiently as Crowley gathered all the ingredients they needed, shifting her weight from one foot to another. 

The Ranger set down a bowl, eggs, flour, a jar of honey, soft butter, some cinnamon, and milk. Cassandra watched as he mixed the batter together. 

“Can you pass me the flour?” he asked, inspecting what he had so far. The Princess pointed at one sack, silently asking “Is that the flour?” Crowley nodded, setting the bowl on the table while Cassandra took the sack. 

She made it without an accident and got the ingredient safely to Crowley. He mixed it into the bowl and let her stir it until it was all smooth. 

While Cassandra stirred the batter with her whisk, the Ranger went on to find a simple form for the cake. They needed something to put it into so they could bake it. However, all forms had been taken by the cooks. Crowley sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Such trouble, really… 

“Hm?” he hummed in thought when his gaze fell on a pan. It was no form, but it could serve just as well. 

The Princess raised an eyebrow when she saw what he was carrying back. 

“I thought you were going to get something like that,” she pointed to the other end of the kitchen where the cooks had their shiny forms. Crowley smiled. 

“I was going to, but there was none left,” he explained. Cassandra nodded her head like it was the most obvious answer in the whole world. She had expected an answer similar to “you’re not ready to think yet” how the Rangers always said to their apprentices, especially if they started a sentence with “I thought.” However, Crowley probably knew that giving such an answer to the Crown Princess was unacceptable. 

“Now, let’s see what you have so far,” he said and Cassandra obediently showed him the batter she was stirring. 

Before he could comment on it, a guard entered the kitchen. The man looked around, his gaze stopping at them. 

“Ranger Crowley, Your Highness,” he said in a strict voice. “His Majesty the King wants to speak with you.” Crowley narrowed his eyes. That didn’t sound like good news. Or, at least, like good news for them. 

“Very well,” he said, setting the bowl down. Turning to one of the cooks, he asked her if she could watch their batter until the two of them returned. The young cook nodded her head, not wanting to offend the Ranger. Even though Crowley was well-known at Castle Araluen, its inhabitants harboured a deep respect for all the Rangers. 

Once the “cake” was taken care of, the odd trio of the guard, the Ranger, and the Princess came upstairs, Crowley and Cassandra dusting flour off their clothes so they’d look presentable in front of the King. 

Five minutes later, they were standing in the King’s office. Duncan looked furious. Not with his daughter for a change, but with the Ranger Commandant. 

“What is the meaning of this, Crowley?” he hissed, standing up and marching resolutely towards the redhead. To his credit, Crowley didn’t even flinch. 

“I explicitly ordered you to watch over my daughter and make sure that she stays in her rooms,” he said, his voice rising in anger. Cassandra took a step back. She knew that her Father was very stressed these days, but she had never seen him raise his voice like this. 

Crowley wasn’t about to let himself be scared. “Sire, with all due respect, you ordered me not to let her leave her rooms without supervision. She was with me the whole time.” 

Duncan’s eyes widened when he realized that yes, he truly did say that. He had come to check in on them half an hour ago and what was his surprise when neither the Ranger nor the Princess was nowhere to be found. He crossed his arms on his chest. 

“And pray tell, what have you been doing?” he asked, irritation still clear in his voice. Cassandra stepped up. She didn’t want Crowley to be the one who got the lecture when he did nothing wrong. 

“We were baking a cake!” she said, almost skipping on the spot with excitement. “As an apology for lady Kyla! Crowley’s been helping me!” 

Duncan seemed genuinely taken aback by this. His surprised expression told them everything they needed to know. 

His surprise projected even into his voice. “You… were baking a cake?” he asked as if he didn’t hear for the first time. It sounded too shocking. His daughter had never baked anything before, except for a few buns she helped make with her Grandmother who had long passed away. 

Cassandra nodded. “Yes! But we still have to bake it, we just have the batter!” 

Seeing his daughter being so enthusiastic about something, the King sighed. 

“Very well, you can go continue baking your cake,” he said, exasperated. Hearing his approval, Cassandra beamed. 

“Do you want to join us, Daddy?” she asked, grinning like the happiest child in the world. Duncan looked away for a second before smiling. 

“Maybe some other time, Cassie. I have work to do. Crowley will help you with it.”

The Ranger bowed slightly. “Of course, Your Majesty.” 

Turning on their heels, the odd duo of the Princess and the Ranger went back downstairs to relieve the poor cook of her guarding duty, smoothing the batter a bit before filling the saucepan with it. It was by no means a nice form, but it was a nice round shape and that was the important thing. To Cassandra, it didn’t really matter how it looked, it just had to resemble a cake. The girl sat on the stool, on the very stool she had used to try and reach the cake that had fallen on her, to watch the “oven” for the whole time. Crowley chatted with the chef, occasionally looking at her to see if she wasn’t bored. 

Cassandra was never the most patient child, but there was something about this that fascinated her. How the batter rose in the heat, becoming a nice round shape. 

“Crowley, and now?” Needless to say, when the child repeated this exact question for the fifteenth time, even the Ranger was beginning to feel annoyed. She wanted the cake to be baked already. 

The redheaded Ranger sighed. “No, not yet, Your Highness,” he repeated, again. He was getting sleepy of staying near the warm fire. Last night hadn’t been fun for him. He stayed up for most of it doing paperwork (that he still needed to complete, by the way) and he wished for nothing more than his nice, warm bed. 

One of the cooks approached them. “We have some frosting left if you’d like some,” he offered, motioning to the table where a new cake was being made. One had to admire how quickly the cooks were able to get a new cake done, especially in such a short amount of time. Sure, it wasn’t ready yet, but even now it already looked amazing. 

Cassandra turned on her stool. “What’s a frosting?” she asked. 

The cook smiled. “It’s a sweet cream to decorate the cake,” he explained and the Princess was immediately on board with this idea. 

One thing no one expected was the King coming down into the kitchens and joining in on the fun, decorating the cake together with Cassandra, relieving Crowley of his duty. 

Half an hour later, covered in sweet icing, the Kind ruffled his daughter’s hair. 

“You know, your Mother loved baking cakes. And I’m sure yours will be just as good as hers were,” he remarked with a soft expression, undoubtedly thinking about Rosalind. Cassandra laughed, complaining that her hair would get all sticky if he touched it with hands covered in sweets, but she couldn’t help but wonder. 

“Daddy?” she asked, waiting for King Duncan to give her his full attention. 

“Are you still mad at me?” She was, of course, referring to the accident that happened a few hours ago. Now, it was almost dinnertime, and the cooks had already started preparing dinner. 

Duncan smiled slightly and stroked her hair. 

“No, Cassie, I’m not mad. Not anymore. You have done a wonderful job with this cake.” 

Cassandra just beamed in delight as they left the kitchens and went to wash off all the frosting before they had to look presentable at the dinner table. 

The next morning, when Cassandra presented lady Kyla her cake, she had liked it so much that there were two beautiful (and very tasty!) wedding cakes.


End file.
